Hell Would be in Mexico
by trucizna
Summary: It’s the year After Colony 196. The war is over, but Wufei’s still got issues. Duo’s just one of them. Shounen ai: DuoWufei ]discontinued[
1. ch 0:: Mexico Summer

Disclaimers:

One. I do not own Gundam Wing, its characters, or its anything.

Two. I adore the very idea of Mexico. I've never been, but I want to visit terribly. Any insulting insinuations toward Mexico and its people are not my views, merely those of a malcontent character. Also, Mexico in the year AC 196 is not going to be the same as it is now.

Three. Call me a cocky American, but I believe that the people in Gundam Wing would all be speaking English. Yes, the show is better in Japanese, but English seems to be the most likely language for them all to share and to permeate through the world in however many hundred years it is until AC 196 rolls by. In any case, that's how I treat this story and any future Gundam stories I write. This is part of the reason there's no Japanese in here.

Spoilers:

This story contains references to events during the series Gundam Wing, as well as references to Episode Zero and Endless Waltz. It also pretty much outlines the final events of the series.

Rating/warnings:

This story is rated R for language and violence. There will be no sexual content beyond the occasional innuendo or bad joke. There will be no explicit sex scenes, just a lot of cussing and people beating/killing each other. Oh, and super-angsty teenage confused homosexual romance. Let's not forget that.

Summary:

It's the year After Colony 196. The war is over, but Wufei's still got issues. Duo's just one of them. (Shounen-ai:: Duo/Wufei)

**Hell Would be in Mexico**

_By trucizna_

Zero: Mexico Summer

I had everything I thought I wanted, everything I'd always been told I was fighting for.

Justice had been served, the war was over. I was supposed to be happy.

So why was it the moment I tucked away my Gundam and tried to settle down on Earth I was suddenly rendered incomplete?

Not that I can say I was happy before, but I expected something else from the end of the war. Something that certainly wasn't waiting for me when I ended up in what used to be known as Mexico, but was now just a gargantuan desert that had nothing to boast but one freaking huge city in the middle of it. I avoided Mexico City. A chaotically bustling mass of earthlings was hardly what I needed. I really had no idea what I needed; I just knew that place wasn't it.

El Rey didn't seem to be it, either. But that's where I ended up.

We all know that when given lemons we are to make lemonade, but when life gives you some cactus, the occasional fucked up lizard and a cranky old man, what are you supposed to make out of it? Was this what the oh-so-elusive 'world peace' was made of?

Fuck Relena. I knew what to do with a gun and drones of faceless soldiers, but a hick desert town scattered with wide-eyed people whose noses were rubbed raw from all the prying they did in each others lives… no mad scientist had ever bothered to cover that one. But I was tired of wandering around, and I managed to find someone who spoke English and needed a bodyguard. I was the only 'real soldier' he'd seen in thirty years.

So that's how I ended up in Nowhere, Mexico.

Duo's excuse is nowhere near as forgivable.


	2. ch 1:: Cazando

**Hell Would be in Mexico**

_By trucizna_

One: Cazando: _August 16th, 196__ AC_

__

Consuelo leered at me through half-open, eyelash-coated eyelids as she shifted the weight of her head from one flour-frosted arm to the other.

Something about her vastly superior expression concerned me. Her look coupled with the fact that she was usually begging to let her feed me by this point made my courage crumble at the edges. I just stared at her and waited for her to explain herself, as I knew she would.

"_Un __chico__ guapo_ came by here this morning." Since I had no idea what a 'chico guapo' was, I listened without commentary, "He was a foreigner, a _gringo_, actually, and an attractive one at that. We talked. He was definitely American, what with the random poorly-pronounced Spanish phrases he spewed every three minutes. He asked me casually if I'd seen any foreigners pass through here. I mentioned you."

I still had no idea what a 'chico guapo' was, but I wasn't sure I wanted one knowing I was around.

"What did you tell him?"

"That you had eyes the color of ours, and skin the color of ours, but were decidedly different. I told him your name was Wufei Chang, and his eyes lit up like _La Navidad_." She shifted her chin on her arms again.

"Shit, Consuelo." If she didn't make amazing sandwiches and give them to me for free I wouldn't have put up with her stupidity. Sometimes I thought it was still too high a price, and I'd rather starve or choke down Jack's 'beef jerky'.

"He said he was your friend, and he'd been looking for you for a long time."

"That doesn't mean he doesn't want me dead!"

She looked genuinely perplexed, "Why would anyone want you dead?"

'Because I am an ex-Gundam pilot and a hazard to the universe.'

I decided not to say that one aloud and just pretended to be confused, too. I looked funny enough that she knew English wasn't my first language, either. She shrugged, the gesture causing a tiny puff of flour to avalanche off her head and one shoulder.

"I sent him up to Old Man Jack's place."

"Shit, Consuelo!"

I ran out of her bakery. I couldn't let the old man die at Consuelo's idiocy, but depending on who it was they might be the one in danger instead.

I ran. Through the dusty town, around Jack's rusting and empty shop and up the tawny dirt path behind it. My feet carried me on a shortcut through an endless field of wheat. I knew where I was going, but the person I was hunting down did not. I caught sight of him standing forlorn and confused against the horizon, his waist-long braid skimming the wheat around him.

There was no mistaking Duo Maxwell, even at this distance.

I stopped running.

He turned slowly around in a circle and caught sight of me standing there. He waved happily, tilting up on his toes and moving his entire arm. It was too hot for that, I thought. I was already regretting running so fast, since the sweat stuck to every joint and ran in annoying rivulets down my face. The heat peeled off the field in waves, making Duo's figure warble as he neared me.

"Consuelo told me a lot about you, you know."

"No, I don't." I replied, eyeing his gleeful smirk a bit apprehensively.

"She spilled the beans. Every single one." He flicked his sweaty bangs out of his eyes and waited for me to ask exactly what kind of beans Consuelo fed him. I decided not to, because he would tell me anyway.

"The whole village talks about you, she said. She said they say you're a scary, white-clad warrior who aims to maim and is twice as terrifying as Old Man Jack himself, yet only half as tall. Apparently, all the young men here hate your guts because you protect his woods from trespassers, since he's finally too old to do it himself."

I shrugged, "they say a lot."

"So it seems." His grin was gigantic. Looking him over, I realized he was terribly skinny and wore battered, dirt-strewn clothes. His nose and cheeks bore the marks of ready-to-peel sunburns. I wondered how long he'd been wandering around this forsaken desert.

"Duo, what are you doing here?"

Grin fading ever so slightly, he shrugged. "Just passing through." I wanted to scoff but stopped myself, opting to narrow my eyes suspiciously at him instead. He shrugged, "it's great to see you, Wufei."

Defeated, I sighed and started walking toward Old Man Jack's place, gesturing for Duo to follow me.

I opened the door carefully, having already warned Duo that Jack was taking his siesta and not to make too much noise. The warning was in vain, however, because as soon as I stepped inside he shouted at me.

"Chang!" To say he bellowed would be more appropriate. I was used to it, but spared a glance to see what Duo thought.

"You maimed Llano, you ingrate!"

I clenched my fists. Duo seemed amused, which didn't help. Not that I cared what Duo thought of me being yelled at, anyway. Jack wheeled himself into the kitchen where I stood slightly ahead of Duo and the still-open front door.

"Shut that there, boy." Jack barked. Startled, Duo jumped inside and let the battered screen door smack shut behind him. "That's better."

Jack turned his crinkled glare back on me.

"I gave them a warning shot. He's still alive, isn't he?"

"He'll limp his whole life. Your bullet went straight through his leg-bone. He won't be out of the hospital for about a week, at least. They had to drive him up to Cuernavaca, the wound was so bad."

"He deserved it. He's been here before, he's seen the signs." I crossed my arms over my chest. Such gruff conversations were not unusual between Jack and I, it's just the way he was. For some reason, however, having Duo witness one such encounter within fifteen minutes of our first meeting in eight months made me nervous.

"You're hopeless, Chang."  
"He's not dead." I insisted.

"Not for lack of trying, it seems."

I would have said that if I wanted to kill someone, they'd be dead. But that was defending myself, something I did not need to do. I just glared. Jack sighed.

"Watch yourself, Chang. That's all." And he wheeled himself away for a dramatic exit.

I wasn't entirely sure what he meant by that. Wasn't it my job to scare away the brainless losers who shot up Jack's property? How was shooting a particularly senseless one in the leg a bad thing? Obviously the idiot couldn't come back for awhile.

In short, the conversation didn't do much for my mood, and I'd almost forgotten Duo was there. That's something hard to do. I turned to look at him in time to catch him swiping one too-long sleeve across his sweaty forehead, leaving a smudge of dirt in its wake. I watched his blue eyes flick around the room as if chasing a fly on speed, taking in the sagging ceiling, the slightly rusty kitchen appliances, and the dented floor in record time. I could almost see his brain working, checking for potential hiding places, counting and measuring the windows, seeing what kind of lock was on the front door. There wasn't a lock on the front door, something that made me exceedingly nervous. When I'd brought it up with Jack, he just grunted and told me to go buy more ammunition.

"Nice place" Duo said brightly upon finishing his perusal. I shrugged.

"You look like shit, Wufei." He added after a moment.

"I could say the same about you." I replied blandly, eyeing him up and down.

"Bah," He grinned, "I clean up well. Can I take a shower?"

"Please do."

He left and I watched him go. Jack's voice bounced off the metal walls,

"Hunting time, Chang."

I tried not to think about why I was here listening to barked orders from a paraplegic old man. The reason was simple enough. There was nowhere for me to go, nothing else for me to do. For me, El Rey, Mexico had about as much as anywhere else. I hated it, sure, but I knew everywhere else on Earth would be exactly the same. Well, with the exception of the Sanc Kingdom, of course. I wouldn't go there for anything.

Teeth clenched, I grabbed the rifle from its irritatingly conspicuous spot on top of the cabinet and stalked outside. The sun was at that annoying angle where it was large, orange, ominous and right in your bleeding eyes. Settling on my usual hill I noticed that the regular teenagers were already moving through the anemic woods below, guns poised, looking for game. I had it easier than they did, because my prey was dressed in fluorescent orange camouflage and about as smart as Consuelo after she's smoked three bowls of marijuana in a row. I stood on the squashed grass and braced for a warning shot when the scope showed me one of the young men whirling his rifle in my direction. He fired and instinct took over. I dropped flat onto the hilltop and returned fire in one liquid motion. The gun kicked upward but I'd shot the ancient thing enough times to bring the scope exactly where it had been before in enough time to see the shining hole in my attacker's head as he collapsed to the forest floor.

Someone screamed.

So I killed somebody. It wasn't the first time, and it probably wouldn't be the last. I didn't even feel bad about it; it was self-defense, after all. Somehow I knew shit would hit the proverbial fan, though. No one here liked me, and killing off one of their sons wouldn't help matters at all.

I lay back on the hill, staring at the washed-out, cloudless sky, listening to the panicked shouts of the dead man's friends below me. My arm started to hurt. The fucker actually managed to shoot me. Sighing, I turned to inspect the damage to find that the bullet had gone straight through my arm, leaving a deep rut where it had grazed my bicep. Naturally, the moment I looked at it the pain turned itself up a few notches to meet the gory expectations my eyes provided. I didn't have time to revel in my wound, however, because Old Man Jack wheeled himself toward me faster than he really should have been able to go.

"What happened?" He glared.

"I killed someone." I wasn't surprised at how nonchalant I sounded. I was never very good at pretending to care.

I didn't like the handcuffs. Sheriff Blacker put them on too tight to be explained away by precaution, and I sent my anger through my eyes into his misshapen, sagging leathery face. My hands didn't need to be cuffed behind my back, either. Not for a simple interrogation, anyway.

"So, tell me what happened again, boy."

"He shot me. I shot him back. It was self-defense."

"You know, his friends say you were taking aim at them."

"They were trespassing. I was preparing a warning shot. I did not intend to hit them."

He leaned across the dilapidated wooden table so close to me his tobacco-laden breath washed across my face.

"They tell me you shot him first."

"They're lying. Look at the body."

"His name was Jesús. Jesús Nevarro."

"Look at his body. He has one bullet hole in his head. I have one bullet hole in my arm. My shot killed him. He couldn't have lived long enough to return fire. He shot me first."

"Maybe you shot yourself so you could get off."

He was still way too close. I didn't want to breathe, he smelled so disgusting. I gave him a look that showed clearly just how little I thought of him and his idiotic plans to incarcerate me against the law. Jack couldn't help me; due to some sort of unknown history with the sheriff he was forbidden to come into the station. Blacker's arm snaked out and seized mine where I'd been shot an hour ago, and I hissed involuntarily with the pain.

"I don't care what you have to say. I'm the law in these here parts, _cabroncito_, and I _will_ put you away like you deserve."

It was senseless to argue with him. He was going against the law and being a complete bastard. He wouldn't change. He hated me. With a final squeeze of my arm and one last smirk he pulled away, wiping the blood from his fingers onto my once-white shirt. My glare didn't relent as he eased his massive frame back in the rickety chair. I tried not to think about the creepy look he was giving me and where I'd seen it before.

"I think I'll give you no chance of bail and a court date for a year from now. That's the best scum-sucking murderers like you deserve, you know."

I still said nothing, and it was only a few moments before his face contorted with fury at my lack of reaction and he smacked me, back-handed, across the face. I turned back to him, glaring, pretending I couldn't feel the thin trail of blood slide down from where his hideous ring cut my cheek. He walked swiftly around the desk and pulled me out of the chair by my hair.

"Well, no sense staying here. Let's show you to your room, shall we?"

He laughed; a stupid, donkey-esque laugh that nauseated me to the point where I was actually relieved when he finally threw me into the cell and walked away, even though he left the handcuffs on.

Of course, that feeling wore off in about five minutes.

Nobody knew Duo. He was white, and even though he shared his ethnicity with Sheriff Blacker that didn't mean his coloring helped. In fact, Blacker was a hypocrite who only trusted Mexicans.

So how he managed to come into the station a few hours later to see me was beyond my imagination. By that point I didn't really care, I was just happy to see someone who wasn't about to spit their tobacco juices at me and call me creatively incomprehensible names in a combination of Spanish and English.

"Why are you still here?" Duo demanded angrily the moment he came into sight.

"I don't know. You should ask them."

"I did. Not only does their reasoning suck, but it's illegal."

"I know."

"They can't keep you here."

"Well, here I am."

He sighed and leaned his head against the bars. I blinked, watching him from my spot on the floor.

"I'll just have to bust you out, like old times."

"You can't, not without repercussions."

"No, they can't touch me. They weren't supposed to touch you. It was a clear case of self-defense."

"His friends testified…"

"They're lying assholes. They had so many holes in their respective stories it was just pathetic."

I eyed him suspiciously, "How'd you get the report?"

He grinned, produced a lock pick from inside his hair, and started working on the lock to the cell. It popped complacently open after a few seconds.

"Disgusting." Duo announced, favoring the lock with a look of disappointed revulsion. Duo stood expectantly in the open doorway for a moment, "well?"

I sighed, drew my legs in and tilted myself onto my feet. It was kind of awkward without the use of my hands. I earned a confused look from Duo as he strode across the cell towards me.

"Those fuckers!" He exclaimed as he caught sight of the handcuffs before quickly popping the locks on them. It was marvelous to stretch my cramped arms and rub circulation back into my hands. When I glanced back at Duo he was livid.

"This isn't fair."

"Nothing is." I replied softly. He stared at me, his face set.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Let's go."

--end chapter one--

_trucizna's__ miniature dictionary of enlightenment and multiculturalism_, chapter one:

un chico guapo—a handsome boy

La navidad—Christmas

Gringo—foreigner, namely from the USA and who speaks poor Spanish.

El Rey—a fictional town.

Cuernavaca—a real town.

Cabroncito—little bastard.


	3. ch 2:: Demasiado Lejos del Cielo

**Hell Would be in Mexico**

_By trucizna_

Two: Demasiado Lejos del Cielo: _August 17th, 196 AC_

"Oi, Chang. That girl from the bakery is here to see you."

I opened my eyes as Jack's voice ricocheted in from the living room. I wasn't supposed to have gone to sleep at all. Damn. I pulled myself into a sitting position on the couch, disliking the way the movement yanked at the stitches Duo made in my arm the night before.

The Gundam pilot was sitting on the floor, back against the couch, his head bent over something.

"Good morning." He said brightly. Consuelo stopped in the doorway, sparing a startled double-take for Duo before rounding on me.

"Ooh, Señor Chang. _Que lastima_!" She wafted into the room and perched on the couch so disturbingly close to me that I had to back away.

"Speak to me in English, Consuelo, or not at all." It sounded more waspish than even I intended, but I didn't really care. I was expecting to be shot at any minute, so I didn't have time for such frivolity. And I wasn't hungry either, so she had nothing to offer me that I could think of.

"So sorry. I came to tell you that I heard Sheriff Blacker bragging about you to his friends this morning."

At this Duo halted whatever he was working on and stood up, turning to face us with his hands on his hips.

"What did he say?"

"He said that he knew you'd get out of jail, and that he planned for it. He also said that if you don't leave town he's going to kill you."

Not a surprising turns of events, that. Duo knelt down to Consuelo's eye level and spoke to her in his usual bright, carefree tone.

"Who did he say this to?"

"Señores Rodríguez, Jiménez, y Pompa."

"Did he say anything else?"

"Sí, he said that he was going to be sure to get away with it."

"Good." I muttered, "Blacker can kiss…"

Duo stood up quickly and cut me off.

"Thanks Consuelo. Don't let anyone see that you came up here, okay? They might come after you too."

She nodded, her eyes glittering so much that I was worried she'd start sobbing on me if I didn't get her out fast enough. As if I needed overly-emotional pretty girls to add to my troubles.

"Go." I added. She nodded again and stood, wringing her hands.

"Take care, Señor Chang," she turned with a sort of half-bow to Duo, "y el amigo de Señor Chang."

She left. Duo took the opportunity to sigh and fall backward onto the couch.

"Way to make friends, Wufei. By nightfall, all sorts of people will be clamoring at the doorstep to shake your hand."

I laughed; sort of. It sounded more like a weak scoff, but Duo grinned and leaned forward to stare in my face,

"So whatcha gonna do about it, 'Fei?"

So now I was 'Fei', huh? Luckily for Duo I was distracted, so I let the nickname slide. Of course, it was sort of his fault I was distracted in the first place.

See, I'd have just let them kill me if I was alone. I didn't care enough to have it any other way, and the more I thought about it the more I figured I deserved it, anyway. But Duo was the type to meddle, and I couldn't let them kill him, too. He was the last great innocent.

He wasn't innocent at all, but I was good at pretending.

"Duo, you should leave town."

"Me?" He laughed. The short, humorless kind of laugh that didn't suit him at all, "and what, pray tell, are you going to do when I split?"

I shrugged.

"Let me guess. You're going to ride out there into the sunset, the lone cowboy, pistols waving et cetera et cetera." He waved a hand in the air, bored, as if shooing away his own clichés.

"Maybe. But either way, it's not your business."

"It is now." When I didn't respond, he continued, "It made it my business when that lying hick asshole who calls himself a sheriff threatened my friend."

I refused to look at him. The prospect was somehow suddenly terrifying.

"I don't want you involved in this; it's not going to be pretty."

"Please." He rolled his eyes, "I'm just as likely to get hurt as you are. Look, I'm sure you could kick all of their asses with a blindfold on and one arm tied behind your back, but what's the harm in letting me stick around?"

I couldn't think of anything, so I kept my mouth shut. I was afraid he was on to me, somehow.

"It shouldn't even be any of your business. How could something like this have happened?" His eyes narrowed suspiciously, "How long have you been here?"

"Almost two weeks."

"Jesus Christ, 'Fei! Let's get the hell out of here, then!"

"No. I have to finish this."

"Why? You don't belong here. They want you out or they'll try to kill you. What's the point in staying?"

"There's nowhere else for me to go."

"That's no excuse. Where have you been since Christmas, then?"

I couldn't tell him that. I couldn't tell anyone that. I was still trying to convince myself the past eight months didn't happen at all.

"Nowhere I can go back to."

"Come with me, then. We can go anywhere, do anything. There are an infinite number of places better than this dump. We could go to Venice, Berlin, Moscow, L4, the mountains of Tibet, that new colony, whatever it's called… X18999. You name it, 'Fei, we can go there."

"No. I have to finish this."

"No, you don't. You're just looking for a fight."

See, he was on to me. I had to get him out of here. It wasn't fair. Everything about the war was easier. I had something to fight for, I knew what I was supposed to do, and if I wanted to off myself I could do it with the push of a button. Now I was pulling out every social weapon I had (and that isn't very many at all, mind you) just to get Duo out of the way so some faceless hicks could beat me to death. It was painful just thinking about it, but it was the best I could do with my vehement disapproval of suicide.

"Just go, Duo, please."

"Not without you."

"Why?!" I was starting to get pissed off and confused. What the fuck did he care, anyway? "Why are you here?"

He shrugged, "Maybe I don't have anywhere to go, either."

"What about that girl… the one who stole the Libra plans?"

"Hilde? What about her?"

"Why aren't you with her?"

He smirked, "If you tell me what you've been up to since Christmas, then I'll tell you about Hilde."

There was no way I was going to tell him that, and he knew it. If he was going to play dirty then I might as well jump in the proverbial mud puddle, too.

"Just leave, Duo. Just go."

"No."

"Leave. I never asked for your help. I never asked for you to come here. Go away."

"What is _with_ you? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"It's none of your business."

"Fine." To my surprise and relief he got up, "you do what you want. I've given up on you. You're hopeless, Chang."

Yeah, good. It didn't _feel_ good, though. In the few seconds I spent sitting collecting my wits on the couch Duo had grabbed his bag and stalked toward the door. I followed him into the kitchen but he didn't wait for me. The screen door shut with a bang as he left into the bright white of the morning sun.

It was what I wanted. Duo was out of the way, he couldn't be hurt. Now my plans were free and clear of any hindrances. I knew this, but what I didn't know was why watching him leave left a cold empty hole in my chest.

"That boy's got his heart in the right place." Jack's voice interrupted my thoughts. I didn't realize he was right behind me.

I scoffed and brushed past him only to feel his hand on my wrist. I pulled it away and turned to face him, my fists clenched beyond color at my sides.

"I don't need any of your so-called wisdom, old man." I snarled. Jack continued, ignoring me.

"As for the location of your heart, I have no idea. If you've ever had one you must have dropped it down a garbage disposal."

The nerve of some people. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe someone shoved it down there?"

"I did." He nodded solemnly, "but if that were the case then you would at least be able to recognize what love is."

I narrowed my eyes before turning and walking away. The last thing I needed right now was Jack's ostentatious bullshit. What I needed was to get this over with, but Blacker was slow in obliging. I guessed that he would come at sunset. Later, maybe, but not earlier.

Maybe Jack was right. I didn't even like my wife until she got herself killed. What did I know, really?

Nothing. But that was okay, because pretty soon it wouldn't make a difference. I stalked into the living room—if you could even call it that—angrier than I'd been in awhile. A whet stone and a hunting knife lay on the floor where Duo had left them. I kicked them under the couch and heard the satisfactory clunk of the objects hitting the wall violently.

The satisfaction didn't last very long at all, though.

From the kitchen I heard the wheelchair ramp to the front door creak.

"What do you want, Andrew?" The voice belonged to Jack, I could tell that raspy voice from anyone's, even if I were deaf.

"You know what I'm here for, Jack. You're harboring a convicted criminal."

"He's not convicted of shit, Andrew, and you know it."

"You know as well as I do that he killed the Nevarro boy. You have nothing to say about that?"

"What if I had shot him?" Jack snarled, his voice a low growl, and with a shock I realized he was speaking in English. Why would he be speaking to anyone in English, besides me? "If I weren't in this damn chair it could have just as easily been me who shot him."

"Then I'd bust your ass, too. You know it." I heard someone spit.

"You're a disgrace, Andrew."

"No, you're the disgrace. You're keeping some weirdo foreigner war criminal. Don't think I don't know who he is."

"It's none of your business. Go away." Gee, how familiar. My own words echoed harshly in my head.

"Just hand him over."

There was a pause, and for a moment I was sure Jack would let him in.

"What do you think she would say if she saw the way you're behaving now?" Jack's voice was so low I almost missed his words.

"Nothing. She's dead, you asshole."

"Get off my property. I have nothing more to say to you, _sheriff_." The title came off Jack's tongue like the worst of taboo insults.

"Just you wait, Jack. When the time comes, I suggest you stay out of the way. That boy is nothing but trouble. Get him out of town or stay the fuck out of the way tonight."

After a little while, Jack wheeled himself to the doorway to see me staring at him.

"You're on your own, Chang." He said firmly, and he wheeled himself right back out again. I heard the screen door slam behind him as he went to man his shop.

"Nothing new there," I muttered to the empty room.

"Wufei Chang. You are under arrest for the murder of Jesús Nevarro. Kneel on the ground with your hands on your head."

"Why incite the law if you aren't going to follow it?" I hissed.

"What did you say, _cabrón_?"

He heard me just fine, the creep. I looked around the field where I'd chosen to meet the people who wanted to do me in. I figured if I was going out there was no use in letting Jack's pitiful excuse for a shack get destroyed in the process. About ten burly Mexicans were spaced around me. A few had bats or brass knuckles or toothpicks. Hey, use whatever you've got. Me? I didn't have anything at all. Like Duo said, I could beat them all with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back. Hicks don't usually know how to fight when they're sober, I've found, and they can't even stand up properly when they're drunk. I had nothing to worry about if I wanted to escape.

But like I said before, I had nowhere to go.

"Get him" Andrew Blacker growled.

I cracked my knuckles, and the lackeys charged. I knocked one out with a foot to his face before I remembered my plan. It turns out it didn't matter much, since in that one moment of hesitation another man hit me in the back of the head with his bat and the fight was officially over.

Even in my semi-conscious state I didn't bother asking where I was. The first thing I noticed was that I was wearing those damn handcuffs again. Not surprising, really.

"You were easier to take than I expected, _chico_" A hand slid out from the fuzzy darkness and grabbed my chin forcefully. It disturbed me that I couldn't see clearly.

"A bit too easy for a Gundam pilot. What have you got up your sleeve?" He chuckled, "yeah, I know what you are. It's just another reason why you shouldn't be in El Rey. Say something, I know you're awake."

Yeah, barely. The world was dank and swirling like a dirty aquarium. It wasn't supposed to look like that. Despite my resolve a tinge of panic lurked in the base of my throbbing skull. The whole situation seemed somehow a thousand times worse since I couldn't see. The grip on my face tightened before the hand let go and moved to my hair, giving it a hard yank.

"You'll pay for what you did to Jesús, _mocoso._" He tossed my head forcefully aside and I tilted over, taking the chair I was cuffed to with me. I hit the cement floor with a crack and my vision flashed in blots of white and black. I gasped as a foot intersected with my stomach before it kicked my ribs, knocking me onto my back. My knuckles were pressed painfully into the ground by the chair, but I wasn't really paying attention to that. I was trying to focus on the face inches from mine.

"No noise?" Blacker scoffed, "I suppose this is nothing new for you, oh perfect soldier." His fingers closed around my throat and a few flecks of spittle sprayed onto my cheek from his next venomous words, "I want to make you squeal. I want to break you. I want to watch you sob at my feet for mercy."

Well, he wasn't going to get it. I may have lost my honor, my pride, and countless other things, but I hadn't sunk so low as to wail like a freshly-dumped schoolgirl for a brainless monkey like Blacker. He pulled me and the chair easily into an upright position by my neck.

"And I think I know just how to do it." By this point I was probably turning a glorious shade of blue, but he released my throat and moved one sandpaper hand to my face. I gasped for air—it's a reflex, you know—while his fingers moved slowly across my jaw.

"You're fairly pretty for an Asian, you know?" His smirk disturbed me, "although you look like you're about ten, but that's not really a problem. Nice muscles, pretty eyes." He pulled out my disheveled ponytail, "And when it's not in that asshole-ish tail you've got lovely girly hair."

He buried his fingers in it and in a sudden swoop I could do nothing to avoid he pressed his disgusting, whiskered lips to mine.

A moment later I was on my back again, what little precarious grip I'd regained on my vision gone, but my perfect hearing reveled in Blacker's screaming curses.

"Fuck! You little shit! He _bit_ me!"

You're goddamn right I did, you asshole. Of course, I paid dearly for that, but I'd rather have a thousand broken ribs and a hemorrhaging liver than be kissed by an overweight, middle-aged desert prick.

"Goddamnit I'm _bleeding_, you little bastard!" He went on and on, screaming, his insults becoming more and more creative before he finally stopped, panting. He leaned over, seized my shirt and lifted me slightly off the ground to whisper a final promise in my ear.

"_Voy a matarte, te prometo_"

Of course, I had no idea what the fuck he was saying to me. He dropped me back onto the floor. Before he turned to leave I caught a flash of his luminescent watch.

It said 0001.

--end chapter two—

_trucizna's miniature dictionary of enlightenment and multiculturalism_, chapter two:

que lastima—what a pity

y el amigo de—and the friend of

cabrón—bastard

mocoso—brat

voy a matarte, te prometo—i'm going to kill you, I promise you.

----see? Educational. One should always learn how to say the important things in other languages. Yep.


	4. ch 3:: A la Puerta del Infierno

**Hell Would be in Mexico**

_by__ trucizna_

Three: A la Puerta del Infierno: _August 18th, 196 AC_

Angry voices in unintelligible Spanish carried through the partially open door as I tried to blink my way into staying conscious. So far it seemed to be working, and the longer I was left alone the farther my vision returned. After a few minutes I could see well enough to pick up most of my surroundings.

I was in a small room in someone's unfinished cement basement. The walls were cracked, the floor was dusty, and somewhere in the distance I imagined I could hear rats. It smelled like stale, unused air and the remnants of Blacker's classic, never-seen-a-shower stench.

I could have been anywhere in or around El Rey, Mexico. On second thought, I probably could have been anywhere in Mexico.

I decided right then that if it were anywhere at all, Hell would be in Mexico. The place was perfect. If he wasn't living there already, it was prime real estate with Satan's name all over it, written in curvy loops of blood and rat droppings.

The voices outside rose angrily for a few sentences and fell again as someone broke up the argument. My thoughts turned to my escape. If I really tried hard, I thought I could smash part of the chair, somehow get a hold of a large splinter, and pick the lock of the handcuffs. Then—if I happened to be able to stand—I could kick all their collective asses and get out of here.

Of course, that would kind of defeat the purpose of me going through all of this in the first place, and just thinking about all the work involved in getting out of Mexico and into someplace slightly less terrible was exhausting. In fact, the more I thought about moving the more I hurt all over, and I finally noticed I was wheezing like an asthmatic old man.

Just when I decided to fuck it all and drop out of consciousness (and maybe life) the door opened with an overly-dramatic slam that _might_ have startled me if I had any kind of capacity to care. I heard several sets of footsteps approaching me; each accompanied by their owner's ominously satisfied chuckles.

This was getting old already, and I realized why it was Quatre who planned everything in the war. I sucked at coming up with good ideas. For proof, just look at this one. There were three of them and they each carried a uniquely painful weapon to add to the experience. I won't go into too many details, but because my feet weren't tied down I did manage to kick one of them in the gut. My thrashing didn't last very long after that and neither did their interest, apparently, because after a few spitted curses they left, still chortling to themselves about my fate. Several minutes later Blacker was back.

He pulled me upright, this time by the back of the rickety chair. He did it so I could see the wickedly serrated hunting knife he held in his other hand.

"I am going to watch you die, you fucked-up, sorry excuse for a human, and I am going to revel in it."

How nice of him to inform me beforehand. He ran the blade lightly across my face and teasingly down my neck, letting the edge bite into my skin at my collarbone. The knife took my shirt with it as it cut a lazy line down my torso. I clenched my teeth against the pain, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing me cry out. The glint in his eyes turned particularly demonic a moment later as he reared back to strike. A timely shadow passing across the doorway made Blacker pause.

"Get the _fuck_ away from him and drop the knife. Now." I recognized that voice. How could I not? Blacker whirled around, knife poised.

"Who the hell…" He didn't even get to finish his sentence before the butt of a rifle hit him between the eyes. He dropped like a particularly ugly rock.

Duo was kneeling in front of me a moment later.

"Wufei…" His voice sounded strange, suddenly, "Wufei, are you okay?" I started to laugh, sort of, but it jarred me in all the wrong places and I ended up hacking spatters of blood onto the floor instead. I didn't notice when he disappeared to release the handcuffs and my bleeding hands dropped to my sides. I didn't bother trying to get up—living seemed particularly stupid after this whole fiasco. He reappeared in front of my chair, his hands hovering like he wanted to touch me but was afraid I would shatter—or maybe bite him—if he did.

"We gotta get out of here." He said at last. He ran his fingers gingerly through my hair, pulling my bangs away from my face. I winced. He let go and his fingers came away smeared with blood. In the hallway outside someone groaned.

"Shit." He whispered, glancing over his shoulder at the open door. He slung the rifle over his back and grabbed one of my arms. "Let's go." When he wrapped an arm around my back and held my side I gasped aloud.

"I'm sorry, 'Fei, but we're in a bit of a time-crunch here."

The hallway was smattered with unconscious bodies. Duo didn't bother trying to walk around them, and when necessary he lifted me easily over any extraneous heads and arms that were in the way. Around a corner we found ourselves at the bottom of a set of long, narrow and very steep stairs.

"You're going to have to get on my back."

No way. I shook my head.

"Damnit, Wufei, now is not the time for your fucking pride!" He snarled, "I think it's a little late for that. I mean _look_ at you!" His voice softened suddenly and he said with a half-smile, "you look like shit."

That boy was fucking nuts, I decided. He dropped the rifle and pulled his braid over his shoulder and out of the way. Since I couldn't really stand by myself I had no other option than to let him sling me over his back where the rifle had just been, and it was in that way I was reduced to riding piggy-back out of whatever hell-hole they'd dumped me in. The still-bleeding cut on my chest dripped down Duo's back, and in my woozy state I felt slightly guilty for ruining his shirt.

We made it into the cricket-filled night air and I was glad to get away from the dank, enclosed space of the basement. It didn't really matter what the fresh air was like, though, because this close, all I could smell was him.

"Why?" I managed to croak after a few minutes.

"Why did I save you?" He repeated, finishing my question for me. He gave a cynical half-laugh, "That's easy. It's my job." I deserved an explanation, I decided. Luckily, he seemed ready to give me one.

"That one time when we were held by Tubarov and OZ, remember? The asshole turned off the air to the prison block and we were going to die. As the oxygen ran out and I could barely move I knew the end was coming. I didn't really mind, you know, since it was my fate as a soldier and all that. But all I wanted was to look at you one last time and see you looking back at me. When I died, all I wanted was one last glimpse into your cold, black, apathetic eyes. But no, you were fucking _hibernating_."

As if to accent his point he shifted me farther up on his back, jostling every single one of my aching ribs. I groaned involuntarily into his neck. The idea that in an instant—one I barely remembered, at that—I could cause Duo enough angst to last him over a year was incredible to me.

To my surprise, he went on, "I realize by this point that you may be incapable of caring for anybody at all, and that in the past you may have never seen me as anything except another faceless, barely-allied soldier, but you mean everything to me, Wufei. You've been chasing Treize all this time and now that he's dead you don't have anything left, right? Well, you could have had me. I've always been there for you, even if you've never noticed. You know what? That's okay. I'll _still_ always be there for you, to protect you from yourself and the world whether you appreciate it or not. I don't care. It's my job, see, because somebody has to do it. It might be selfish of me, but I won't let you die." He took a deep, steadying breath that rattled ever so slightly, "Especially not in a piece of shit place like this."

By this point I'd lost enough blood that the world was flashing in colorless fireworks across my vision. Hearing is the last thing to go when you bleed to death, so I heard every word he spoke to me. Not that I understood any of it. All those words and I had no idea what he was trying to tell me. I buried my face in his neck with the vague understanding that I'd wronged him in some way I could never repair.

I passed out.

I awoke to this really, really annoying but steady blipping sound, and at first I wondered what timer was counting down and whether I was going to explode soon or not. When I opened my eyes everything was white. Shadows settled slowly into their proper places and I found myself gazing up at an unfamiliar ceiling. Bordering my field of vision were various metal and plastic contraptions. Ones that looked oddly and disturbingly familiar.

Shit.

I catapulted myself upright and immediately regretted it as every muscle in my body screamed in furious protest. That's when I remembered why I was in a hospital. I angrily tore out the needles buried in my arms and inspected the damage.

One. It hurt to breathe.

Two. Bandages wrapped securely around my wrists, adding the fact that I looked like a suicide survivor to my misery. I fucking _hate_ handcuffs.

Three. Looking down under the crappy hospital gown, I could see stitches in my chest. A lot of them.

Four. I had a really, really nasty headache.

Afterward I wished I hadn't taken a tally, because maybe I would have been able to ignore at least one of the things wrong with me. Maybe I shouldn't have taken out all the needles—maybe one of them was morphine. On second thought, I was glad I'd taken them out. I hate needles. No, I'm not afraid of them; I just harbor an intense dislike.

I sat there trying to figure out how to breathe without moving anything in my chest when the plastic sheet separating me from the hallway opened and a man in white came in bearing a clipboard. At least he matched the décor.

"Ah, Mister Chang. How are you feeling?"

I had no response to that, so I kept silent.

"Can you speak? You do speak English, right?" He approached the bed and attached the clipboard to the foot of it.

"Yeah." It sort of sounded like English, anyway.

"Good. Step out of bed if you would, Mister Chang. I know it's going to be painful but you've been unconscious for over twelve hours. You need to move around."

Twelve, huh? Impressive. He pulled down the sheet on the bed.

"Where…?" I began.

"You're in the city hospital of Cuernavaca. It's Sunday, the eighteenth of August, 196."

I shook my head carefully. That's not what I wanted to know. He grabbed my arm and steadied me as I stepped down. I clenched my teeth and felt stupid.

"You've bruised several ribs, so movement of any kind is going to be painful."

With an unfortunate amount of help I walked a little bit around the room. The nurse grinned, "That young man outside is going to be very pleased you've awoken. He hasn't stopped asking about you since I got here this morning. He's been pretty annoying, to be honest, and he just fell asleep on a bench out there an hour or so ago. I'll bring in Old Man Jack to speak to you and we'll let the young man get his rest, hmm?"

I wasn't really paying attention after I realized he must have been talking about Duo. He was just making small talk, anyway, and luckily I wasn't obligated to respond. He helped me through the painful process of lying back down again, and I cursed the fact that I was in such a weakling state of half-death. It was no one's fault but my own, however.

Once I was settled the nurse smirked down at me. "You really shouldn't have taken these out, you know." He held the IVs between his fingers like so many glinting scalpels. When he saw the look on my face he laughed and told me I wouldn't have to put them back in as long as I drank plenty of water, and that I could take painkillers by mouth instead. I relaxed visibly. Jack wheeled himself into the half room/half shower stall once the nurse left.

"You would not believe what it took to get that Maxwell kid to calm down and go to sleep." He growled, "Once he realized he missed the thirty seconds you were awake at five am this morning because he was in the bathroom he went berserk. I convinced one of the nurses to drug him. He's out cold, but we only managed it about an hour ago. I think he's been solidly awake for the past three days."

"Three?" I tried to wrap my brain around that one.

Jack nodded, "He didn't sleep the night you were arrested."

That idiot. Of course that meant Jack was probably awake with him, if he knew he never slept.

"What time is it?" Congratulations, Wufei, on your first complete sentence.

"Two thirty in the afternoon."

Suddenly I felt exhausted, despite the fact I'd been sleeping solidly a half a day already.

"What did they give me?"

"Oodles and oodles of drugs, I assume. You'll need them. You upstarts are always trying to run around the world no matter what condition you're in. I approved them for anything they wanted to give you, and warned them about your habits."

"What habits?" I eyed him warily.

"In particular your habit of ignoring your elders and your personal safety. You've got Duo Maxwell disregarding _his_ to look after _your_ well being. Luckily I'm old and omnipotent enough to look after myself and at least be able to knock Maxwell out when he needs it." He chuckled harshly and shook his head, "He's going to be furious when he wakes up."

The old man and Duo must have really chummed it up while I was knocked out for Jack to feel so friendly toward him. I met Jack's eyes in one of the stare-downs that had become a ritual for us since I showed up at his doorstep. His semi-smile vanished, and after a moment he tossed a crumpled sheet of paper onto my bed. I picked it up and read.

_Jack, _

_You're lucky nobody's dead. If those punks killed any of those boys there would be three heads dangling from the town hall instead of two. There will, however, be no bending the rules for you anymore. You've crossed a line, Jack, and there is no going back._

_--Andrew_

The letter had had a knife through it at one point, probably pinned to Jack's door for dramatic effect. I re-read the letter quickly but needn't have bothered. Its meaning was clear enough. I waited for Jack to tell me what this meant, besides the obvious, 'get the hell out of Mexico and never come near here again.' That was already on the to-do list.

"He doesn't mean a word of it, obviously." Jack spoke at last, folding and pocketing the sloppy letter, "He's been threatening my life since he was born. My brother is quite the attention whore."

These sentences left me in a bit of a shock, although I'm not sure which was the bigger surprise; that sheriff Blacker was Jack's brother or that I heard him call him an 'attention whore'. Probably the latter.

"He does mean it when he says he wants your heads, both of you."

I listened to all of this, my surprise waning fast.

"He's going to come after you, so watch your back. You don't need to worry too much, however. I can keep Andrew in line. He's the one who's gone too far, this time." If possible, his gaze darkened farther. I wondered what he was going to be able to do in that wheelchair, but at the same time I was glad I wasn't the one in his path.

When I woke up again later Duo lay asleep with his head on the side of my bed, his braid a crooked tail slipping off the edge of the mattress. I decided I didn't much like being awake, since it hurt and I didn't like how my brain worked when conscious. When I tried to move I noticed that Duo's fingers were wrapped in mine. Any wonderment at that phenomenon was banished instantly when I noticed they'd reinserted the IVs into my other arm while I was asleep. In a slightly drugged panic I pulled my hand from Duo's to peel away at the excessive amount of tape they'd used to keep the needles in place.

"Mmmm, Fei?" I spared a glance towards him just in time to catch him rocket into a sitting position, his spine giving off several popping noises I knew couldn't be very comfortable for him.

"Hey, don't. Leave them in." He reached across and pulled my arm away from its frantic scrabbling. I wanted to protest, but I barely managed to restrain myself. Then there was silence. After a few heavy moments of it he noticed that he was still hanging on to my arm and let go.

"Um, how are you doing?"

"I've been better." I drawled. I gave him a severe look. It wasn't like him to be so hesitant, "whatever you have to say, say it."

"We're leaving. I'm taking you with me."

"Where?"

He looked visibly relieved. I didn't know why.

"I don't know yet," he admitted, "but far away from here. Somewhere in space, probably."

"Okay," I said. He smiled. I felt my stomach lurch looking at him look at me like that, and I wondered how I could possibly refuse him.

I was going to have to figure it out, though, and sooner rather than later. I couldn't stay with him forever.


End file.
